t h e   9-10-3   p r o j e c t

> g u   c h u   s u m   p o e t r y

** This particular poem is called ka-shed in Tibetan. The beauty of such a poem lies in the form where each line begins with an alphabet in its sequence. The appeal is purely phonological though each line has its own message. Translation of such a poem is hard for a translator cannot begin the same line in the target language alphabet. **

Listen to me brothers
Let me tell you a word from my heart and not an empty word
In absence of wisdom wherever you go
What difference is there between us and cows
Stay away from friends who blabber
Near the friends who are good characters
Like tea stalls in every market
And tadpoles dancing in water
Worship the tathagatha (right path)
Prepare to walk alone for the final walk
Donıt fool yourself
For you will get old
Stop fooling and follow spirituality
There is nothing greater than your parentsı gratitude
Shirk your eat-and-sleep act like those of cows
And start doing before being told
These lines of mine
Are dedicated to the brothers in exile
In the garbage-filled Dharamsala
Stay clear from foe like friends
These white words that came through this black lead
Remember it by heart without confusion and hurry
We the brothers in exile Spread the morals
The land of god surrounded by ranges
In the time of separation from the mountains and wind
The gratitude of your parents
Must not be forgotten where you go
These words from an ignorant person like me
Are heartfelt words though
I donıt know much

by Namjor

Separated by thousands of lewar (units of measurement)
Live my loving and grateful parents
Often I remember you and tears pool in my eyes
I write this sad poem in the sadness of my memory

When the crops ripen and comes the harvest
Working hard in the field with face soaked in sweat
All for me, your little son

I remember my parents who have cracks in their hands.

By Gyaltsen


Beyond the snow mountains live my grateful parents
I, their precious son wander in a foreign land
I weep when I remember my parentsı gratitude
I pray to see their faces soon.

Beyond the snow mountains lives my revered Guru
I, his ignorant pupil am in this distant land
My reverence grows when I remember my Guru
I pray to hear his voice soon.

Beyond the snow mountains lives my loved friend
I, his shameless friend live in the horizon
Sadness creeps in when I remember my friendıs love
I pray for us to meet soon.

Oh, white clouds in the sky
Spread thy in the sky beyond the snow mountains
And drizzle these heartfelt words
That came out of my mouth.

by Legshey

To know the religion and not practice it
What good has been the religion
Though the harvest has been good
What good is it for the carnivores

The wise look for their vices
Fools look for othersı vices
Peacocks look into their body
Nocturnals (owls) bring ill-fortune to others

Friend, analyze this man for his good vices.

By Jamyang Wangpo

When the rain clouds bring rainbows
Many are its beauties
When the hailstorm comes
Perish will the powerless beauties.

One can wash his face with tears,
But sorrow within cannot be washed.
One can thump his chest like a drum,

But the ignorance within cannot be dispelled.
Ego and envy arise Lose will your appetite for spirituality
And thirst will arise for sin.

By Ngawang Tendol

About Dosampaıs dreamŠ
Dosampa dreamed he used his
Arms as wings.
He spread this and flapped them
Like a bird, and flew
Over hills and fields and the earth
Below looked wonderful.
He never saw such a beautiful sight.

By Yeshi

Godıs love?
One by one leave in disappointmentıs tear
And another one by one bear lifeıs bell
Wish and try to tear the darkness,
And dash away to the lightıs dream.
Rough rude God! Take a long breath
And you can know that God is rough.
Bird in cage. Who can help? Cage?
Born in darkness. Life emerges in darkness.
What is the pure lightness?
Try to light a fire‹dream.
But, the dream turns against the reality
And will ask ³What is the reality?²
Is it the turn against life or other?
In the end, it only could have been an
Empty handıs hunter.
Perhaps the God is not rough.
Perhaps the God sneers at my empty hands.
I say I am infinitesimal.
My all of me, only can liken to
Hands of dust.
Promise turns against reality.
Reality killing promise.
My dream is the love.
Where is the love?
What is the reality?
Reality prohibits dream.
The dream like a motto‹sorrow.

By Dosampa


My brotherıs karma is that heıs blind.
He lost his sight at thirteen.
He accepted this.
I often wonder what it would be like to be blind.
You would have to depend on others.
You would depend on othersı senses.
My brother loves the feel
Of catsı fur under his hands;
The smell of flowers
The taste of paks and momos
And the sound of guitar.
But he will never see these things.
He will see only blackness‹
Perhaps he can imagine them.

By Tsering Chokey

Donıt pray to get freedom
Try to struggle for it
Donıt wait for otherıs support
Try to stand on your own feet
Donıtı waste time
Try to study hard to get freedom
From the red Chinese hand.


Once upon a time, I was very happy
Because I met my parents in my dream
In Lhasa.
My mother was very sad.
She held my hand and she told me
³A very long time I didnıt see you.
I miss you so much.²
Tears were coming From her eyes.
After I woke up, I looked out the window.
I saw beautiful moon.
It looked like my mother.
Now I live in India
But my mind is not here.

By Ngawang Tendol

One time I lived protected
Mother visited me
I held tight to the bar
Mother advised me
But my mind if full of the sorrows
I didnıt hear what she said
She said we want a free Tibet soon

Collectively written

The weather is very hot, but I am still cold
Itıs made my heart freeze
If my heart is not frozen, then I can go everywhere in the world
Most people like peacefulness soŠ
Your sun is a friend
I am the moonıs friend
We never came together
But donıt you worry

Collectively written

Look at our snow land
They have no freedom
How can I solve my countryıs problems?
Please show me.
I will get a new way then.
Day and night, again and again,
I tried to find a way.
In the longest night I found a way
And I am still here.

Collectively written

We never lose memories of people
Or our beautiful country.
We perfectly keep our place, I think.
I can get good partners,
We must have clean power.
Because here comes the war moment.

By Ngawang Tendol

I thought our government
Needed a solution
To find the freedom
There and back again
We can fly lively.
Though China is very powerful.
We shouldnıt lose our hope.
Save our leaders and Tibetan people.
World, run after honesty and justice.

By Namchoe

That day in 1959 we lost our government.
But now times change.

The world should make gold
Your way.
Separate mind and body.
Then we will get International peace information.
Not warfare.
Living long lives
And peace-fully.


Normally I am feeling soft,
But the sun rises up‹
The sunshine falls
On my face without a smile.
But I hope it lives long
Because we donıt want a storm.

By Palden

Earth is a danger.
We see hundreds of people fight,
A long time ago we
We didnıt see a vision.
Loveless brothers please make a peace.
I donıt like this sight,
But I havenıt seen better.
Oh insightful peace,
They have not kindness or love.

By Tsewang

Open the words in these years.
I make improvements in my words,
For I have lots of experience
And myself. I have got a friend.
Those words are very important.
I submit you love.

By Dawa

Whatıs a ³long-lost²?
Our country in Tibet.
We long-lost some peace, no development.
Please give peace a chance, Tibetan people.
We usually like living peacefully.
Lucky are both lights.
The power of a Tibetan historyŠ
Please stand up and do something for our future,
Our life.

By Lobsang Dolma

I am a relevant rainbow.
Countries marvel. Freedom is over‹
A dirty surprise for the future.
It connects to the downside.

By Ngawang Choedron

I was thinking that people couldnıt
Make History.
Then, those people tried hard to find
A Solution.
And I learned that we could.

By Sonam

After reactive the hour prevents
A problem hidden in the world.
Technology silent (engaging)
Making dangerous
A problem hidden in the world.
The hour prevents escape.
It was Godıs choice, staying alive.
The world escapes.

By Dosampa

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